back in the saddle

Today, while out riding, I told Bob that I was going to blog (write an entry in my blog) tonight.

"You have a blog?" he asked.

"Smart-ass," I replied with a slight sneer. "It's been like two weeks since I've written." - and ridden.

"More like three weeks," he said, flashing that full grin of his. He did/does have a point.

I've missed writing as well as riding. But I've been nowhere near a bike in the last (gulp) three weeks, so I had nothing to say on here (I've decided no one needs to hear my non-riding personal shit). I think I should change the title on this blog to: "MyDogParty...2012...[please, for the love of God] bring it." I need me some miles! With that said, I got some today. Not many, but just enough.

In Toluca Lake following Bob...

Heading to Forest Lawn, past the studios...

Poor Bob - this morning, he had to put up with my scrambling around to find my Sidis and my helmet (both of which I thought were in my car; they were) and my nose (which was, in fact, attached to my face) all while I snapped at him for not being able to find stuff in the still-messy back seat (as if it were his fault!). He had waited patiently on my curb ready to roll right at 8:15am before rolling up into my driveway to my car to see what the hell I was doing (and cursing over). We did not take off to pedal until closer to 9:00am due to my fiddle farting around and throwing a temper tantrum. Bob is a patient, kind soul is all I can say. And I'm terribly lucky to have him as my good friend and riding buddy.

Into Griffith Park...I've missed it!...

and the jacket comes off on Trash Truck Hill...

He could have dropped me today easily but he hung with me to Griffith Park, up Trash Truck Hill (the bitch) and around the park. We would have climbed the canyons had an elderly (albeit amazingly athletic) runner not passed me at the top of the hill. Yes, you read that right - a runner passed and dropped me on the climb up Trash Truck Hill in Griffith Park. I wouldn't admit that on here (or anywhere) except for both my sense of humor and my respect for my fellow athletes. That man rocked his 1980s runner shorts! And I humbly acknowledged to Bob my defeat. This convinced Bob (and finally me) to skip the canyons and make it a 30 mile or under day.

I would play "Can You Spot Bob" - but really, is it necessary?...

Dude is an animal! - he totally shined, passed and dropped me on my bike!...

many riders out today...

my favorite (and patient) rider...

about to pass my sorry ass...

yes...I was there...

heading to the bike path on Riverside Drive...

Bob's a smart man. On the bike path home, I felt it. Yup...a mere 16 miles at that point and I was hurting. I'm not going to snivel on here though. Nor am I going to point out that my jersey and shorts are so much tighter than they were even after the holidays (after I'd eaten to my heart's content). I'm just going to accept my plight and then...improve it. I say that a lot and have nothing to back it. So, you're just gonna have to take my word on it.

the next four photos are Bob's attempts to amuse himself
while I was on a necessary call this morning...

Bob promised me a "harder" ride next Saturday. If I can just limp out 50 miles, I'll gain my confidence back. Next week (Monday - Friday), I'm hitting the gym hard and getting my routine back. I've been moving from one apartment to another, by the way. And that has been my dilemma, downfall and Achilles Heel.

this bridge never gets old...

heading home...

Moving always sucks, but due to my landlord trauma (note: not drama; trauma) in fall 2010, this move has proven emotional (as in - moving to a new place & worrying I'll be victimized all over again). I've been on edge, suspicious and crazy paranoid. Since moving in last Sunday, I've seen shadows even in well-lit corners and heard whispers where there should only be silence...which is a pity. My new place is lovely beyond belief. It's the largest apartment I've ever lived in and has such charm, light, warmth, great neighbors and a very sweet, normal landlord. My fears are unfounded.

I'm still unpacking and sorting and decorating, so no photos to share. But soon, I'll have many to post on here. I know Dad, Mom and JT will want to see the place. Dad and JT will love it when they visit in the coming years (Mom won't since she doesn't fly anymore). I hope to live here a very long time. But it took me until today and something very odd to finally convince me to chill out with the paranoia. I'm not going into it except to say that no one in the last decade has shot a bullet or BB gun pellet through my bathroom window. Please don't ask.

Tomorrow, I hike and (maybe) ride Nellie in the hood. Next weekend, more riding. My turmoil is calming down again and, yippee!, I'm back in the saddle. Man, did I miss my bike. I missed writing on this blog too. Hopefully, my (forced) respite is over and I'll have so much more to say (and report) in the months ahead.